Tactics
by cold-crescent-moon
Summary: Cold War Era.


I don't own anything

* * *

It wasn't a failure.

It was all planned. From the very beginning, he intended to fail his country.

But that was the price to pay if he ever wanted to love again.

The wind was blowing flurries of flakes outside, casting a white blanket over everything, as it did any other night. It was routinely, as was everything else.

The water was warm that night, thankfully warm enough to keep his body heated. Lids fell over their eyes slowly, and as the sound of dripping water began to fade, the lids closed down completely. It didn't take long for him to slip into blissful submission, with the water around him and the tiredness coursing through his body, his mind didn't hesitate in taking a deep rest.

_Ivan_...

He felt soft hands cover his eyes. These hands....

_Ivan..._

No, it couldn't be... but,

_Ivan..._

The hands on his eyes lifted away, and the Russian was able to open them. Lavender eyes, deeper than his own, looked back at him, sadness gleaming in them accompanied by love and pity.

"Mother.... Russia...?"

She reached out and let her hands clasp the sides of his face, bringing herself closer before resting her head next to his.

_What have you done?_

He shivered a bit. She was cold, not like General Winter, but just... cool...

"What, do you mean?"

_What have you done to my country... my people... my lands...._

Sorrow dripped off of her hollow words, and the boy felt his heart twisting again.

"Mother Russia... I tried... I tried with all I had to make everything better, but nothing worked."

The woman was silent for a moment.

_The weapons, _she began. _They are the cause of it... You have made more hatred just by thinking about them_

"B-But, there was nothing I could do, and now it's too late... I, I can't do anything...."

A soft smile pulled her lips.

_Yes you can._

There was a silence before she said anything again.

_You need to surrender._

"But I can't!" Came his immediate reply.

_Not directly, no, but loosing is surrender. Vanya, you must loose this war._

Loose the war?

"...No, I can't. If I do that, then I'll loose everyone."

_You must do it. There is no other choice._

Frustration gnawed at his stomach and tears burned the back of his eyes. Winning this war was the only chance of keeping his countries in place, in the house with him so that it wasn't so empty, but, Mother Russia....

"I understand." He said, his voice soft enough to match the woman's. She leaned in and placed a neat kiss on his temple before pulling away.

_I am glad Vanya... for you'll find love again after this decision._

The hands slipped away, and her image began to fade as it moved away from him. Panic rose in him. There was no way he could let her slip away like this, but when he tried to speak, no words left his mouth. He could move his arms and reach out, but he was rooted to where he was. It did no good. Even if he reached out, there was no chance of him reaching her.

Tears had somehow fallen from his eyes which had finally opened. All was quiet in the bathroon, and only the sound of dripping water met his ears.

He knew what he had to do.

Sighing, he pulled himself back together and got out of the tub, reaching for the towel and drying himself. He couldn't ask to make a loosing decision so directly, so the only way was to....

His face paled at that moment. Eyes had gone blank and expression bleak.

No.

He, He couldn't.

But Mother Russia...

Eyes closed once more.

It was the only tactic.

It had worked. Convincing his supiriors to channel (nearly) all of the country's money towards nuclear research sealed the deed. Alfred had convinced his own supiriors not to, as it would damage their economy. A damaged economy would lead to a broken nation, just as long as the remains of the money were kept away long enough to arouse bloodshed. A broken nation would lead to the downfall, and that would end the hatred.

Fingers clawed the floor despretly as sobs racked his breath. The Soveit Union had come to an end, and they had left. The youngest was the last to go, and he expected him to run off without a word, but this was proven wrong only moments before.

_"I-Ivan?"_

_A hand tugged his sleeve._

_"I, I'll come back, I promise... so, please, wait for me?"_

There was no answer to give the sweet boy, and he did not wait for one.

His body crumbled into a heap on the floor as he continued to mourn. His nation, people, lands, all in ruin... But, the hatred stopped, so it was okay.... right?

_I am glad Vanya... for you'll find love again after this decision._

What love was there? He bit down on his bottom lip. There was no love awaiting. It was all a trick... a trick by his own mother.

* * *

Excuse typos and grammar errors.


End file.
